My writing table has seen all my wretchedness, knows all my plans, has overheard all my thoughts.

Among even the happiest married couples there are always moments of regret.

Your women of fashion ceases to be a woman. She is neither mother, nor wife, nor lover. She is, medically speaking, sex on the brain.

What is a child, monsieur, but the image of two beings, the fruit of two sentiments spontaneously blended?

At thirty years a woman asks her lover to give her back the esteem she has forfeited for his sake; she lives only for him, her thoughts are full of his future, he must have a great career, she bids him make it glorious; she can obey, entreat, command, humble herself, or rise in pride; times without number she brings comfort when a young girl can only make moan.

Law is a silvery web that lets the big flies pass and catches all the small ones.

Great minds always tend to see virtue in misfortune.